


Honours Even

by hgdoghouse



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Case Fic, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hgdoghouse/pseuds/hgdoghouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CI5's latest case sees Bodie meeting up with an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honours Even

I wasn't exactly smitten the first time I set eyes on Kumal Rhayem and he isn't the sort of bloke who grows on you with close acquaintance. Well, he didn't on me. Mind, I've got to be fair, it was a pretty unorthodox introduction.

One moment this bunch of Arabs were flowing sedately across the Lounge, next thing I know, the smallest of the group had raced away from the others, grabbed handfuls of Bodie and was kissing him.

It caused quite a stir.

I thought McCabe was going to bust a gasket there and then; he went purple enough. Took him to one side and sorted him out before we left Heathrow and as we haven't heard a peep out of him since, I must have done something right that day.

I wouldn't like to say what I must've looked like while it was going on though. I mean, people don't go round doing that sort of thing to Bodie - well, blokes don't. Not unless they want to leave on a stretcher.

This wasn't one of your continental embraces with a discreet peck on the cheek either, it went on forever.

I made my way over to them nonchalantly enough and then dug my way through the massed bodyguards. I don't know what they feed 'em on out there but those buggers were big. Had a short internal debate on whether to clip this bloke one where it wouldn't show before I hauled him off Bodie or after. The sight of Bodie hugging him back gave me a pause or three.

While Bodie's an affectionate enough bloke once you get to know him, he takes good care that not many people get to know him that well. I'm one of the lucky ones. Then I saw his expression as the bloke whispered something, his breath stirring Bodie's hair.

It's not the first time I've seen that look on Bodie's face: I've seen him look at me like that - when he thought I wouldn't notice - but never at anyone else. It shook me, seeing it being given to a total stranger. So, against my better judgement, I left them to get on with it. Just coughed - politely - to remind Bodie that he wasn't here to enjoy himself.

Needn't have wasted my breath.

The pair of them were still wrapped around each other, burbling away in the most god awful mixture of languages you've ever heard - well, this bloke was, but Bodie seemed to be following what he was saying without too much difficulty. I swear I heard some Afrikaans amongst it all.

Then I realised who the skinny bloke must be.

No wonder Bodie had looked a bit odd when Cowley hauled us in to give us this babysitting job: I thought all his usual complaints had been missing at the time. Just so Cowley wouldn't miss them, I#d made 'em instead.

I soon discovered that Bodie and Rhayem went back a long way, although they'd both been legit for a long time. Rhayem had been Minister of Defence for a good few years, playing with a budget that would make your eyes gleam; it must've made a nice change from gun running on the Jordanian borders.

Meanwhile, I was still standing there, feeling a right berk, waiting for Bodie to remember I existed.

It took one hell of a long time.

"This is Kumal Rhayem," he mumbled eventually, through a mouthful of curls. They let go of each other in something of a hurry - I think Bodie had suddenly realised that the Lounge was kind of quiet while everyone watched the pair of them. "We're old friends," he added, sounding sheepish.

I took a patient breath. "I can see that."

He had the grace to twitch then. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it when the Old Man gave us the job of looking after him," he said.

It isn't often that you hear Bodie sounding hearty but I suppose I had been glaring at the pair of them rather hard. I looked up and two Japanese and one American business man moved hastily away. Clearing rooms has always been a speciality of mine.

"Kumal, pack it in," Bodie added, as indulgent as you please. As I looked round he sidestepped the hand blatantly drifting towards his crotch.

I ask you: the VIP Lounge, Heathrow Airport. The things some people will try on in the guise of diplomatic immunity.

"This is my partner, Ray Doyle," Bodie went on placidly, as if he were quite used to coping with this sort of thing. But he was starting to look harassed.

Then I saw that Rhayem's hand was busy stroking Bodie's left buttock.

I stuck my hands in my pockets before I could forget myself and clock Rhayem one. Luckily no one else could spot what was going on; those bodyguards surrounding us had their uses. But I didn't see why Bodie should have to put up with that sort of treatment from a Minister of Defence or anyone else, so I wasn't too subtle.

Either the glare worked or it was a good piece of timing because Rhayem gave Bodie a final pat on the bum and released him. Then he deigned to notice me, officially.

The dislike was mutual.

All the same, something seemed to be amusing the hell out of him. Not that Rhayem was obvious; it's about the only thing he was discreet about during his entire stay. I'll say one thing about him, Rhayem was thorough. By the time his eyes had finished doing their once-over I felt like checking my pockets to make sure everything was still in place. But I put up with it and gave him one of my best social smiles.

"Mister Rhayem."

God, we were polite. Shaking hands and all that.

He had thinnish hands, well-manicured, but his grip was firm enough. Not that he tried any funny stuff, it was all too civilised for anything like that.

I went into the routine.

Yes, he'd had a good flight (discovered he had his own jet); and, yes, he was looking forward to his negotiations in London. Could tell he was a politician right off - he never stopped talking. I finally managed to get a word in edgeways and steer the whole entourage to the waiting cars.

One thing about having money, you don't have to hump your own suitcases. I never did spot any sign of his luggage - or much of anything else - on the way out to the forecourt. We hadn't gone two paces before the horizon got what you could call limited. Couldn't see a sodding thing through the bodyguards. Lucas told me afterwards that you couldn't see the three of us at all, except for the extra pairs of feet.

That's what I felt reduced to.

It might have been safe enough behind that wall of flesh but it was bloody stifling. One advantage though, if they had halitosis it passed straight over my head.

By the time we reached the Silver Cloud I'd had a chance to give Rhayem the once-over myself. I'd heard about him, of course, but either he didn't think he was photogenic or he was very security conscious because I'd only ever seen about one picture of him - which made it all the odder, because I knew I knew him - and knew him well.

He wasn't exactly your run of the mill Arab, not the sort we normally get lumbered with anyway. But he had the unthinking arrogance that money can bring, that certain look you see in anyone who's accustomed to instant obedience - Cowley's got it to a degree, though we're training him out of it. Rhayem was a very different kettle of fish.

He was young for the position he held: he couldn't have been more than thirty or so when he was first appointed Minister. Even now, while he was laughing and joking with Bodie there was something - I wouldn't want to cross him, not if I had to turn my back afterwards.

It didn't take me long to discover that you couldn't go around with this lot in tow and not attract attention. I don't think it was solely due to lover boy's looks either. It was those bloody bodyguards.

I was glad they were on our side.

It took a bit of teamwork but Bodie and I finally managed to 'persuade' them that we would keep the light of their life safe enough. So there were only the three of us in the back of the first car as we set off for the hotel. Rhayem sat between us like the jam in a sandwich, looking as exotic as hell.

I was starting to get a headache.

The only time he and Bodie stopped talking was when they took a deep breath, but at least they were speaking English now.

Bodie made the odd token effort to include me in the conversation, which Rhayem ignored totally. I got very familiar with his right ear during the drive, it was all I saw of him, which suited me fine. One of us had to concentrate on the job.

The journey to the hotel was peaceful enough otherwise. If anyone was displaying any undue interest in us I didn't spot them at it; besides, we had a few people staked out along the route. We made it into the hotel with no hassles - what's one more Arab in the multitude. The Management seemed to take it all in their stride, even the sight of the bodyguards. I know there were only eight of them; it just felt like an army.

They were already in position by the time we got Rhayem away from the foyer. He'd been keeping himself amused chatting up this gorgeous looking bird, until Bodie gave him a nudge. Then he gave all his attention to Bodie instead.

His rooms were the usual sort of wall-to-wall luxury but they were well sited. If there was a fire we had a hell of a run to the stairs, apart from that everything was fine. If his personal guards were armed they had the sense to be discreet about it. I didn't ask too many unnecessary questions - felt chary about the answers I might get. Not that they were exactly chatty. I don't suppose they got the chance to be with Rhayem around.

Checking out the rooms I discovered he hadn't so much hired a suite as half the hotel. It didn't take long to realise he was expecting Bodie and me to share it with him for the duration.

"Sorry," I said firmly. "We're the day shift. We'll be back at eight tomorrow morning." Twelve sodding hours at a stretch. Bloody Cowley. I'd be old before me time.

Rhayem wore this crooked little smile before he gave Bodie a look from under his lashes. I'd've thought the joke was wearing thin myself.

"You'll stay, won't you," he murmured, with a confidence that got right up my nose. "Having managed to obtain your - er - services, I went to some pains to ensure that tonight should remain free." The accent might have been pure Oxbridge, the grin that accompanied it was downright wicked.

Thought Bodie might take the hump at that but, no, his mouth was twitching again. He hesitated and gave me a quick look. There was this - I dunno, I didn't understand the look in his eyes at all.

"It's OK, Ray. You go off, mate. I know you've got a date lined up for tonight. Kumal and I can catch up on old times."

Thought they had done that already. Never heard Bodie talk so freely about his past. Listening to them made me realise that, unlikely a combination as they seemed, he and Rhayem had shared a lot - the bad times with the good. Sharing everything like that, that's what brings you close to someone.

I jettisoned Sandra without a second thought.

"Already cancelled it," I said virtuously. "You're right, it'll be more efficient if we stay on the job full time."

I didn't trust Rhayem, not by the length of one of his curling eyelashes. And that suave bastard knew it. I was amusing the hell out of him. But he must have sensed that I wasn't going to budge because he smoothly commended me on my application to duty.

Made me feel like the bloody boot boy.

The evening got steadily worse.

We handed over to Anson and Murphy, with Bodie leaving me to explain that we had been asked to stay over as Rhayem's guests. Think I even managed to sound enthusiastic.

Rhayem and Bodie were talking nineteen to the dozen when I got back, catching up with what each other had been doing. It sounds ordinary enough put like that but there was something between them I couldn't put my finger on.

I didn't twig to what it was until halfway through dinner.

Yeah, I know. I'm thick. But while I'd realised Rhayem was trying it on for all he was worth, it never occurred to me that Bodie would be interested.

Interested? He did everything but issue a bloody invitation.

I nearly choked to death on my lobster thermidor. It had been bugging me all evening. I knew I'd seen that look on Bodie's face before and Rhayem was about as subtle as a knee in the balls. I could feel myself going red - and it was nothing to do with the choking fit - so I took a hasty gulp of wine. Then I gave the pair of them an innocent look.

"Something went down the wrong way," I said, a touch defensive when I saw the expression on their faces. Well I don't claim my table manners are perfect but I don't often spit at my host. The time was fast approaching when it would be a pleasure to make an exception in Rhayem's case.

They both carried on staring at me, Bodie not believing a word of it - you'd think he'd give me a little credit. But it was Rhayem I was concentrating on. The dark eyes examined me all over again, lingering here and there. He made it quite clear he wasn't impressed with what he saw.

I gave him a bland smile. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be too bright.

I dunno why I'd been so shocked. I mean, I know Bodie's had a varied life and that's not a problem. He's made no secret of it with me - although he doesn't exactly go on about it either. He only mentioned it the once. But I'd never seen him give any other bloke the eye before, until tonight. I suppose that was what had shaken me, it didn't bother me while it was safely in the past. This was going on right under my nose. The worst of it was you'd have to be blind not to see how good they were together; comfortable with each other, for all that they hadn't seen each other for years. And even I could see that Rhayem had what it takes to suit most people - in abundance.

He was a good-looking bugger and sharp as broken glass - well, he couldn't be thick to have stayed Minister of Defence for six years. His lot aren't big on holding elections; any politician risked losing more than his seat. What clinched it though was his evil sense of humour - it was almost as bad as Bodie's.

If the circumstances had been different I could have enjoyed listening to their double act.

"...for long?"

"Eh?" Keep your mind on the job, Doyle.

Bodie chipped in smooth as can be. "Yeah, Ray and I have been partners for almost - five years, isn't it, sunshine?"

He knew bloody well how long it was.

"Sunshine?" Rhayem was politely confused.

"In his case, as in little ray of," Bodie said, before I could so much as open my mouth.

Rhayem lifted an eyebrow. It was too late to stop scowling so I didn't bother trying.

"Oh?" he said.

That was my burst of glory over. Dismissing me, Rhayem started in on another round of 'do you remembers' with Bodie.

They'd been a busy pair by the sound of it.

"You've changed a lot since then though," Rhayem announced after a while, sipping at his water. It sounded innocuous enough.

I had another glass of wine and hoped I was imaging all the eye contact that was going on around me.

Bodie didn't seem to have a clue what Rhayem was on about. Sometimes I wonder if he would recognise a compliment if it got up and bit him on the arse. One of the things I've always liked about Bodie is the fact that for all his 'tall dark and beautiful' jokes, I know he hasn't got an ounce of vanity about his looks, no mean feat given that he's the best looking bloke on the squad. It's not in character, I know. But it's true.

"You haven't," Bodie was saying placidly, "except for the odd grey hair." It was obviously an old joke between them; anyway, for all that he was darker and two or three years older, Rhayem was no greyer than me.

Bodie was bloody flirting with the bastard!

I started to feel decidedly redundant about then. It felt very lonely on my side of the table.

I thought about starting up a conversation with one of the skyscrapers who were serving the meal. But while he was doing a great job of keeping my glass topped up, it was like I was the invisible man. I nearly groped him, just to see what reaction I'd get. Decided against the idea. He was enormous.

The meal dragged on. There seemed to be a hell of a lot of courses. I dunno what else got served up, I didn't do more than push the food around my plate.

The other two were in no hurry; every so often Rhayem would make a point of serving something to Bodie himself. He didn't actually peel him a grape but you get the idea.

I'd given up by that time. Had the feeling I could've danced naked on the table top and they would have carried on talking through me. Even debated trying it.

Decided against that idea, too.

I could feel myself starting to get a bit uptight; my face hurt from the stupid smile I kept plastered on it, in case anyone looked my way. It might have been the wine of course. Well I had to do something with my hands and it was a nice drop of stuff. Trouble was, I knew I'd had too much. But if the need arose I could sober up fast enough.

That's what I told myself anyway.

You could tell Rhayem had been nicely brought up. After about our third thimbleful of coffee he cranked up the perfect host routine again.

"Is there anything I can offer you by way of entertainment for the remainder of the evening?" he asked, making it quite plain that he and Bodie had their own plans.

I was tempted to ask for something that would take the curl out of his hair.

"You haven't got any dancin' boys stashed away, have you?"

Only realised I'd actually said it when Bodie gave me a poisonous glare and kicked me under the table.

It didn't seem to faze Rhayem though. His eyes were back to wandering over Bodie again, lingering here and there.

I began to feel sick.

I never have liked lobster much.

"If you wish a companion for the night I am sure one can be found for you," he announced, with the smooth assurance of a high-class ponce. But at least he preempted whatever Bodie had been about to say, which from the expression on his face was just as well. Although I can handle Bodie. Usually.

"But what about - ?" I gave Rhayem a pointed look and let the question die of its own accord.

His eyes flickered back to Bodie. "For my own part, I take my pleasures - elsewhere."

No prizes for guessing who with.

We'd been dining by candlelight and the ambiance was as romantic as hell. But the candles were starting to burn low by now and had started to smoke. Made my eyes water.

Candles throw a flattering sort of glow that can make anyone look good. They made Bodie look - I suddenly noticed how blue his eyes were. Funny, I had never noticed before. And his mouth looked - He was smiling at something Rhayem was whispering to him and my guts gave a little twist. Bodie's tie was long since gone, his shirt half undone, gaping open as he slumped back in his chair again. Then he picked up his glass and silently toasted Rhayem.

Normally it took a bloody heat wave to make him undo so much as his top button.

"I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble," I told Rhayem loudly. "Don't worry about me, I'll just curl up with a good book."

Bodie's head turned, fast as a whip.

"Learn to read first," he suggested, real venom in his voice. He wasn't smiling now and he sounded like he really meant it.

I gave up then. If this was what he really wanted there was nothing I could do to stop him.

It was my fault for being too bloody subtle. Too late to worry about that now. I made my excuses and got out before I did something that might get me fired. I don't think either of them even noticed me leave.

I couldn't think what to do with myself, I certainly wasn't in the mood for sleep so I went off to check with the night watch that everything was all right their end. Fended off a lot of ribald enquiries about harems.

Wish to christ they'd been right.

I knew I wasn't going to be good company so I went off to find my room. I had a suite all my own well away from Bodie's. It had every mod con you could think of, then a few - I expect there are even some people who go for gold leaf and marble but it's not my style.

I wandered around, pushed a few buttons and switched them off again. I couldn't settle.

I couldn't get that smile of Bodie's out of my head.

It wasn't like Bodie to leave himself wide open. Wary isn't the word for him usually.

The trouble was, Rhayem was an old mate of his. I kept forgetting that.

It was about time I accepted it. Rhayem mattered to him. It wasn't a matter of a one night stand even.

I thought over how I felt about that; decided I was against the idea of him with Bodie for any length of time.

So they looked good together, that meant nothing. Rhayem wasn't right for Bodie.

He was a selfish bastard to start with. He'd made no attempt to hide what he wanted from anyone, although I'd covered for that scene in the airport lounge. Since then he'd only hotted up his act. He couldn't know I wouldn't go bleating to the Old Man first thing in the morning. Usually a bent security man is an unemployed security man. If Rhayem thought anything of Bodie he wouldn't have put him at risk like that.

If he hurt Bodie I'd -

\- have to stand by and watch him do it. Christ, I wasn't in a position to do anything.

On that cheery note I went and had a shower, which was a mistake. It didn't sober me up at all.

So I had a lie down, waited until the ceiling stopped weaving and dipping around me. After a while, it did. It was quiet in my room; no traffic noise, no sound of voices. They have nice thick walls at the Dorchester.

I kept seeing that smile of Bodie's and the hungry look in Rhayem's eyes. I kept imagining the pair of them together.

I stood it for sixty sodding minutes, then I went to find Bodie. I was beyond caring what he wanted anymore; I wasn't about to lose him to some bloody Arab after all this time.

 

***

 

I'd just managed to quieten Kumal down and was enjoying the silence while I finished off my brandy when the door crashed open.

I've always had good reflexes and it was obvious Kumal hadn't lost any of his. With him still flat on the floor out of harm's way I found myself staring at the bug-eyed apparition standing in the doorway. It was a unique style of dress - unzipped jeans, bare-foot and a crumpled shirt with all the buttons done up wrong.

It was Ray, who else?

Got to give him full marks for subtlety, it was quite an entrance.

I took a patient breath, wondering how ten stone nothing of Ray Doyle could have got past Ameur, who had been on duty outside Kumal's private lounge last time I checked. Ignoring the spilt brandy soaking through my cords, I reholstered my magnum and gave Doyle a hard glare.

"Given up knocking have we?"

Rolled right off him that did, he was too busy giving Kumal and the room the once over to even hear me.

About to repeat it, I lost my thread as I saw Ameur stagger into view. From the way the poor bugger was clutching his balls I could tell Doyle hadn't got in through sheer force of personality.

Ray must have a screw loose to go around beating up Kumal's personal bodyguard. Before I had a chance to tell him just what I thought about it Ameur straightened up. He was still grey around the gills and wheezing like an asthmatic; from the red light in his eyes it was a moot point whether Ray would make it back out of the room in one piece.

I felt inclined to hold the mad bastard down while Ameur repaid the compliment.

None of this was bothering Kumal of course. He was loving every minute of it, looking dead pleased with himself as he plonked down in an armchair. Christ knows why he was so happy, Ameur wasn't going to be of much use for a couple of hours at the best.

"Is there some emergency?" Kumal asked, sweet as saccharin as he gave Ray's appearance a look of appalled disbelief.

I could understand why. Ray hadn't taken too much trouble over dressing, though at least he had zipped his fly up now. From the wet state of his hair he must have had a shower, unless he'd just stuck his head in the sink - nothing would surprise me about him anymore.

But standing there, god - one hand on his hip, the other massaging his belly, he looked scruffy, dissolute and like far too many of my midnight fantasies for comfort. I sat down before I could give myself away.

It was obvious Ray didn't care for Kumal's scrutiny because he gave him one of those glassy-eyed stares that have been known to make Cowley pause -only this one wasn't quite in focus. To top it all the stupid sod was plastered, visibly rocking.

"Emergency?" he echoed, his voice much too soft for my liking. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Ah. So it does not concern myself but your partner."

If I hadn't known how unlikely it was I would have said Kumal was trying to help Ray out, feeding him lines like that.

The mood I was in, Ray was going to need all the help he could get, acting so bloody irresponsible.

Decided it was about time I chipped in. "If World War Three isn't imminent, what the hell are you doin' busting in like this?" I demanded.

"Wanted a word with you, didn't I," Ray snapped back, as if it should have been obvious.

At two a.m.?

"Well it'll have to wait," I told him, getting this nasty sinking sensation when I saw Ameur appear in the doorway. "I'm busy," I added, keeping a wary eye on seventeen stone of advancing Arab - all of it muscle.

For all that he was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Kumal must have been doing the same thing. He said something too quick for me to follow that stopped Ameur in his tracks; then Ameur nodded, gave Ray one last glance and went out, closing the door meek as a lamb.

One down, one to go.

Still, Kumal had saved me having to step in -Ray would have loved that. But he wasn't built to face up to someone of Ameur's size, drunk or sober, for all that he had been lucky once. Problem would have been in making Ray see that. I sometimes wonder if he thinks he's invincible.

"Busy with what?" Ray demanded, oblivious to what had been going on behind his back.

He had been so quiet during the last few minutes that I half hoped he would flake out so I could carry him off to bed before he made an even bigger fool of himself. It's the first time I've ever known Ray to get plastered while we were on standby. For all his moaning, he's a conscientious little sod.

There was something else out of character too. I've seen him pissed before, but never like this. Ray's an affectionate drunk, all soft and full of diabolical jokes; booze seems to bring out his sweet side.

Quite appealing if you must know.

"With me," Kumal says firmly.

He must lead a charmed life if he carries on like that back home.

Not liking the glint that had appeared in Ray's eyes, I got to my feet as he padded closer to Kumal. It can be difficult to reason with Ray when he loses his temper at the best of times, especially when you haven't got a clue what it's all about. A blind man could see he was livid.

"Sorry about the interruption," he was telling Kumal with patent insincerity. "But Bodie's needed elsewhere."

"By whom?" Kumal asked, interested.

And he's supposed to be the fucking diplomat. It was deliberate bloody provocation on his part; anyone would think he wanted to goad Ray into blowing his top completely.

"Me," said Ray.

You have to admire the egotism of it. While I was still hoping that he was joking, he caught hold of my arm; he wasn't gentle.

"Say goodnight, Bodie. You're going to be occupied for the rest of the night."

"Oh, am I?"

It didn't take much effort to get free, which surprised me. I soon forgot that. I'd had enough of the pair of them. It had been a long day with quite a few surprises along the way; I was knackered.

"Yeah. We've got things to discuss," Ray added, so quietly that I almost missed it.

I gave him another hard look.

Big mistake that. I could feel my expression changing. Underneath all that stroppy belligerence Ray was about as miserable as I've ever seen him. And there was this sort of lost look.

He can look so bloody pathetic at times. I never have been able to stand seeing him like that. I felt a bit sick when it suddenly dawned on me why Ray was being so evasive. It must be bad news from HQ, news he didn't want to have to tell me but that was so bad he couldn't give the job to anyone else. Something wrong with one of our own, a job gone sour. I'm not close to many of the blokes in CI5, although they're a good enough bunch on the whole, but I know three quarters of them well; because we're only a small outfit you notice it when someone gets hit.

I prefer hearing bad news quickly.

"Who - ?" In front of Kumal wasn't the time or place. "Look, I'll be out with you in a minute, all right?" I turned back to Kumal. "It could be important," I explained, trying not to wonder who had got hit - going through the names. For Ray to look the way he did it was someone close, an old mate - or mates.

"Oh, I'm sure that it is," Kumal agreed, looking between the pair of us. "Although I doubt that it is quite the news you are expecting." Highly amused, his voice trailed away.

I spared him a quick frown, in no mood for any double talk. Told him as much.

Grinning, he just got to his feet, stretching lazily. "I was quite mistaken earlier this evening," he announced, as oblique as hell. "You haven't changed at all. Do you always go around with your eyes shut?"

"Bodie."

It was then that I realised that far from taking the hint, Ray hadn't moved. There was this odd look on his face, half-impatient, half -

"I told you, I'll be out in a minute. Don't you understand English anymore?"

He didn't make any comeback, just took it, his face closing up in the way it does. It had taken me a long time to suss that look out because Ray's good at hiding things when he wants to. It shook me, knowing I'd hurt him with something that stupid. Ray and I are always snapping at each other. It doesn't mean anything. And considering his usual lack of charm, it was bloody ironic for him to be on the receiving end. Wished I hadn't said it though.

Kumal gave me a tap on the shoulder. "You should go, it is later than I had realised. Besides, I will see you tomorrow. You are on duty at eight?" The question was for Ray's benefit.

Kumal was flogging a dead camel there. It would take more than a subtle reminder to keep Doyle in his place, wherever that was. He's never been much of a respecter of authority for its own sake.

"I am. But until then Bodie and I are both off-duty and we wouldn't want one of your guards fallin' asleep on the job, would we?" He managed to make it sound insulting.

Kumal just laughed. "Now you have two of us worrying over your welfare," he told me and draped an arm around my shoulders, his face about three inches from mine.

I'd forgotten that stupid bloody stunt we had set up. I could feel myself going pink under the look Kumal was giving me while I tried not to laugh. Hoped Ray hadn't noticed what Kumal's hand was doing or I would never hear the end of it.

My guts squeezed up somewhere under my ribs. Ray had noticed all right - if not the blush, the fact that I hadn't moved away. He went very still, the way he can; for a split second I thought he would go for Kumal. I know that white-lipped ferocity of old.

"Ray, what the -?"

He didn't hear me, all his concentration on Kumal. But I could see him get a grip on his temper, shaking with the effort it cost him. He suddenly looked very sober.

"I can see that Bodie's in good hands. My apologies for intruding. If you'll excuse me?"

It was the first civil word he had addressed to Kumal all evening, and not at all in character. His timing took me by surprise. It wasn't so much an apology as - Why the hell was he sounding so defeated? Before I could ask Ray what he was playing at, he was gone, the door to Kumal's room whispering to a close, leaving me standing staring at it like the village idiot.

Kumal's poke in the ribs made me jump.

"It would be wise for you to go after him," he said sounding remorseful of all things. "I had no right to tease either of you over something this important." He was very serious all of a sudden. "Be happy, Bodie."

"Eh?"

Kumal went on these mystic kicks sometimes, talking in riddles.

"No matter." He smiled. "I will see you at midday."

I wasn't given the chance to interrupt.

"Yes, I know my first meeting is scheduled for eight thirty but my own guards will provide ample protection while I remain in this suite - unless you suspect your own Ministry of harbouring assassins? I will have no need of your expertise until my luncheon engagement. Midday, Bodie."

"Yeah. OK, fine. Sleep tight."

Still trying to work out what had been going on, because everyone but me seemed to know, and making a mental note to get Murphy to keep an eye on things early tomorrow, I went off to find Ray.

He wasn't next door where he was supposed to be, nor in the next five rooms I checked while I tried to find his bedroom. So I made a casual check with the night watch.

Two things were clear straight away: they hadn't seen Ray - well, the way he looked they would have remembered, and commented - and it was obvious that there was nothing wrong back at base.

Which didn't help make things any clearer. Something had been bugging Ray, bugging him enough for him to make a right fool of himself. And that isn't in character either; he isn't keen on being laughed at the best of times.

I had a wander around, trying to find him without looking conspicuous about it. It had been a long evening and I was knackered. I'd forgotten what a great one Kumal's always been for talking.

Poor bugger. He'd let slip that this was the first trip where he'd managed to slip the matrimonial leash in five years. While he hadn't found the nerve to make the most of his chances, seeing me had put him in the mood to reminisce over old times.

And over, and over.

If anyone had told me that Kumal Rhayem, ex-scourge of the fleshpots, would turn into a henpecked husband I would have I laughed in their face. After the performance Kumal had given with me earlier this evening I certainly couldn't see Ray swallowing it.

Kumal's an evil-minded sod - and he doesn't waste much time making it up either. He's never been what you would call indecisive. Having grabbed me at the airport he had taken one look at Ray's expression, added two and two and made about fifteen.

I hadn't seen Kumal for over eleven years. D'you know the first thing the mad bastard says to me? "Are you two lovers?"

I ask you.

Worse than that, I was so stunned I said "No such luck" without realising what I was saying.

Trouble was, I meant it.

Kumal knew it, too.

We were standing so close at that point that I felt his start of surprise - he'd always been peeved about what he called my unadventurous streak. But it was never that which stopped me taking up his offer, just lack of inclination. The Congo had been very different, you made the best of a bad job.

While I was wondering what he would say next, he gave me this dazzling smile and said he always knew I would settle down one day. Talk about being a bit previous.

Having searched what felt like half the hotel, I decided to stop and scrounge a cup of coffee from the kitchen - I wonder how many other people bring their own chef to the Dorchester? - I needed to stop and have a think. There hadn't been much time before, what with one thing and another. Besides, I needed something to keep me awake.

In the airport things had moved much too fast. Before I could say another word to try and explain Kumal was wafting this master plan down my left ear. I didn't catch all of it, of course. My Arabic's definitely rusty and he was using that bloody argot he'd taught me when we started working together. I caught enough though. I didn't have much option but to go along with Kumal by then either. Roving hands wasn't the word for it and even I couldn't go round belting foreign dignitaries. I couldn't see myself explaining the extenuating circumstances to Cowley.

Looking back on it, I don't know why I went along with Kumal. There were a number of reasons I suppose, the main one being Ray's expression as he came charging across the lounge before he slithered to a halt and tried to look nonchalant. Kumal had handed me the opportunity on a plate and I was in the mood to make the most of it. One way or another I had to know how Ray felt about me and I hadn't got the bloody guts simply to ask him. But I was spending too much time watching Ray Doyle, wanting him.

He hadn't got a bloody clue of course; Ray's about as bent as your average totem pole.

When I think of all the hints I'd dropped over the years. Either I'd been too subtle or Ray was even thicker than I thought. He seemed to take it all for granted, even the touching. Never gave me so much as a funny look - which considering that I slipped up a couple of times and got over-enthusiastic shows you he's either trusting or thick. It was watching that beautiful little arse twitching in front of me that did it. The way he dresses shouldn't be allowed. So after a while I started in on the jokes, as much for light relief as testing out the water. It was a waste of breath either way, he'd just snap one right back at me.

But the way he seemed to respond made my heart stop a couple of times, until I realised. Ray's such a flirt he'll respond to anything, he can't seem to help himself. It would take longer to turn on a tap.

By that time I was well and truly hooked and knew exactly what I wanted. So one night when we were unwinding over a bottle of Glenfiddich I told him a few things about my past.

He hadn't been expecting that particular revelation.

I saw the shock hit him, watched him absorb what I had told him, all grave and quiet. Just when I was beginning to worry about his reaction Ray gives me one of those crooked, conspiratorial grins of his and ask how it compares.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I expect I just poured him another drink.

Don't ask me why I wasted my breath. It didn't make a scrap of difference to Ray, he didn't change at all. In fact, come to think of it, he stayed the night with me, sharing the bed same as always.

One of us must be stupid. Of course, I hadn't told him the exact truth of what it had been like out in the Congo. I probably made it sound quite glamourous, instead of the desperate bloody fumbling for relief in the heat and wet; the need to keep your back to a tree when a couple of the older guys came back to Base.

But it was almost funny; Ray got very protective of me for a while. Not so that anyone else would notice - he isn't a great one for grand gestures - but in small ways. And sometimes I would look up to find him watching me, looking a bit worried. He seemed to relax once he twigged I wasn't going to start having it off with every reasonable looking bloke in sight. After a while he started picking birds out for me, fixing up double dates.

Bloody ironic, isn't it. I do everything but spell it out for him and he -

Now I had a chance to stop and think about it, it was a bloody strange thing for him to be doing. For someone who had no interest in fellas, Ray had been paying one hell of a lot of interest to me for a long time now. It was tempting enough to hope but it was too easily explained, more's the pity. For all his faults, Ray's a loyal little bugger to anyone he regards as a mate. We were certainly that.

But that was why I'd taken up Kumal's idea, impulse. The trouble with giving way to impulse is that you have to do some nippy thinking about the likely consequences or get a nasty surprise.

At the airport I hadn't given the consequences a thought.

As for why Kumal suggested it in the first place, well there were probably a couple of reasons. But I'd be willing to bet that the main one was sheer malice. He hadn't taken to Ray, could see that before they'd even said a word to each other.

Not surprising, because although they couldn't have known it then they were alike in a lot of ways. Not many that were important though.

Besides, Kumal's a born actor - or liar, the definition depends on how charitable you're feeling. He loved every moment of the evening. Gave a performance that -

Well, he damn nearly convinced me and I _know_ he's never seriously fancied a bloke in his life. He'd just been in the mood to experiment, try everything out. Was never interested enough to find out if he ever did. Didn't seem too tactful all those years ago because he hadn't been too thrilled about me turning him down; his pride, I suppose.

As for the risks he took - You would think he would have had more sense of responsibility in his position than to set up something like that in a public place like an airport. Luckily his visit was being kept very quiet and there hadn't been a journalist in sight.

The evening had snowballed from there.

Kumal always has liked living dangerously. I used to wonder if he had a screw loose, some of the chances he used to take. But he can be good company, in small doses.

It was only as the evening crept on that I remembered how many times he had stitched me up in the past. Nearly got me killed once, though to be fair he got me out again.

He has this weird sense of honour, took it very seriously, even in the days when the pair of us were doing our Lawrence of Arabia impersonations. He would - literally - do anything for a friend and we had been that all right, for all that we had started out on opposing sides.

It had been good catching up on old times: after a while I even began to enjoy my part in the act we were putting on. A few smouldering looks from under the eyelashes, you know the sort of thing. Nothing subtle. It was a bit of harmless fun, that's all. I was having a great time right up to the moment I looked up and saw Ray's unguarded expression over dinner.

I think that at first Ray had simply tagged Kumal as some sex-starved Arab with wandering hands, presuming that I put up with it for old times sake. I know it's a bit thin, but it's the only reason I can think of why it took him so long to twig. It was only when I started to play my part that he took it seriously.

It made me feel as guilty as hell to realise he was sitting there worrying about me. But Kumal and I had taken the joke too far by then, I couldn't stop it without explaining. And if Kumal had said anything to Ray by this point there'd be a detonation they'd here clear to the Foreign Office.

Besides, I wanted to do any explaining in private. I know what Ray's like when he loses his temper.

Anyway, something in me was resenting the fact that worry was all he was feeling.

It was a lousy thing to have done to him.

Sitting there, brooding over my untouched coffee, it suddenly dawned on me just how worried Ray must have been. That's why he'd come barging in on us. The gullible little sod must've thought there'd be some kind of orgy going on.

So what if he didn't want me for himself, he cared. And I couldn't ask for more than that.

I wasn't any more successful in convincing myself of that this time, but I knew I had to go and find him, try to explain that Kumal had this weird sense of humour.

And get ready to duck.

After a quick glance at my watch I discovered it was gone three in the morning, so I left the coffee where it was. Better to get the explanation over with. I was chilly, so I headed back to my room to grab a sweater. Ray couldn't have gone far; in fact he'd probably been tucked up in bed for the last hour.

I refused to wonder whose bed. Kept reminding myself that wasn't any of my business.

I got jumped the moment I opened the door to my room.

It wasn't until I grabbed a handful of curls that I realised who the hell it was.

I let him go, pushed him away and flicked on the light, glaring at him. I was shaking from the narrow squeak we'd had.

"You irresponsible bloody maniac! I could have killed you!"

Doyle just traded glares and kicked the door shut. "No chance." He glanced at his watch. "I fell asleep waiting for you to - " He'd obviously taken in the time. "Where the fuck have you been?"

I stood up straighter. "Making your apologies to Kumal for the - "

He never gave me the chance to finish, shoving me back against the door with a strangled growl. "Listen," he said, poking me in the chest with a hard finger, "I know you like a bit of variety in your private life and that's OK but - You take up with Rhayem again and how long d'you think it'll last? How long do you think you'll last? He's a target for every splinter group operating in the Middle East. You stupid sod, can't you see he's just using you?"

I found bruises the next day where he was gripping me. Never even noticed at the time. It's not like me to be at a loss but I couldn't find the breath to interrupt him. Hell, I couldn't even think straight. I just stood there, gormless as a tailor's dummy while I stared at him with my mouth open, wondering if my brandy had been spiked with anything. Then I saw the look in his eyes and wondered how drunk he was.

He gave this funny exasperated little grunt before he shook me, as though he thought I wouldn't be listening.

"You want to fuck around, that's your prerogative. You want to fuck around with old friends - fine, who better? Why choose Rhayem? What the hell's wrong with me?"

He was yelling by this time, his voice thick with fury. From the state of him I swear he didn't realise what he had actually said.

"N-nothing," I said weakly.

Couldn't take my eyes off that furious little face. He was scarlet with temper, thrusting himself up against me. lf he moved any closer he was going to get a surprise all of his own. I swallowed hard, but there wasn't much else to concentrate on. Everywhere I looked I was surrounded by Ray Doyle - the scent of him almost more than I could bear. And his mouth was so very close, looking all heavy and swollen and -

Before I could think of a thing to say Ray caught my head between his hands and kissed me, hard.

Christ, he put everything into that kiss, mouth opening like a bloody flower to the sun.

He tastes - And the feel of him in my hands. I bloody near suffocated before he came up for air but he didn't let go of me. Don't think he could. He was shaking even more than I was, his eyes the size of saucers.

I wasn't about to give him the chance to change his mind so I slid my arms tighter around him and kissed him back. Couldn't get enough of him. And the feel of him rock hard, thrusting against me; knowing all that hot urgency was just for me. I was beyond caring why.

His hands were everywhere. And his mouth.

He'd almost got my shirt off by then and was whispering under his breath. Stupid things. But they made me feel -

I'd got his jeans half off by this time. Couldn't stop touching him long enough to concentrate. He was too responsive. Went to pull him in close to feel all that pulsing heat come against me, wrap myself around him and -

Ray arched back, his arse fitting my hands like we were made for each other. His eyes dazed, he gave this shuddering sigh and reaching back took hold of my wrists.

"Hang on a minute. Get rid of these first." His voice was so soft I almost missed it.

So I let him go, watched him haul them off. Could see his hands shaking, the intent look on the down bent face before he was free of them. For a moment I wondered what he would do, whether he was regretting -

I never got any further than that because he slid his leg between mine, tucked himself up against me and taking my hands, placed them firmly back over his arse. Then he just looked at me; his eyes were huge and so very bright.

"Up against the door, or any other way you want it."

Nearly finished me, that did. Ray was even further gone, shivering, strung out, his cock arrow-straight, the heavy beat of it against me.

And I was still bloody well dressed.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered with the velvety warmth of him all around me. We were so bloody close, just standing like this.

The jolt in the small of my back thrust me into him, nearly sent the pair of us over the edge.

"Bodie! What the hell's wrong with this door? Oy, Bodie, there's an A7 alert! Have you gone deaf?"

If Murphy wasn't enough I could hear my bloody R/T going. It was almost worth the agony of it for the look on Ray's face, except that my expression was probably the same.

Ray was whispering again, breathing obscenities while he struggled back into his jeans; he was havin' one hell of a problem coordinating everything.

"Bodie! Open the bloody door."

I was busy keeping my weight pressed back against the door for all I was worth, while trying to zip up my fly and tuck my shirt in all at the same time.

"Hang on." I could hardly recognise my own voice. "I'm coming."

"Not without me you're not," breathed a soft voice in my ear. A hand cupped the side of my face and was gone again.

Bloody ridiculous what that did to me. It was the tenderness of it you see, wasn't expecting that.

The alert proved one thing, Ray and I must be more conditioned to the job than either of us would have believed because I would've said that nothing could have stopped us.

Murphy and Cowley managed it between them.

What made me sick was the recovery Ray seemed to have made while he chatted to the Old Man over the R/T. Then I saw the way his hand was still shaking.

I don't like to think what I must have looked like. I've got a shrewd idea from the double-take Murphy gave when I opened the door. I gave him a supercilious look but I needn't have worried, he didn't have time to waste on inessentials.

"About bloody time. There's been a bomb alert, six minutes ago to Reuters. IRA claim there's three hundred pounds of explosive due to go up in," he glanced at his watch, "thirty-four minutes. Police and Bomb Squad are movin' in. Anson's with Rhayem and we've got our route out of here covered, two cars waiting. Rhayem won't budge without you to hold his hand. He seems to think it's some anti-government faction trying to winkle him out into the open."

"What does Cowley think?" I asked as we thundered off down the corridor. I could hear Ray right behind us, going "Mmm" into the R/T.

"That - "

" - we get off our backsides and move Rhayem out whether he wants to go or not," said Doyle, interrupting whatever Murphy had been about to say. "Unless this lot have access to inside info it's the IRA all right. The call signs match."

We were coming up to Rhayem's suite by now. Ameur and co let us in with near relief; well, none of them are stupid and for all that it was quiet in the suite you could hear the distant commotion outside while the hotel management and local coppers sweated blood to clear the rest of the hotel. I shared a quick look with Ray, knowing it would be organised chaos outside. I was willing to bet there'd be a few interesting discoveries made tonight; a place like the Dorchester attracts a very mixed clientele these days - the only thing they've got in common is money.

I was glad to see Kumal had stopped pissing around; he was all business now. Wheeling round as we came in, he snapped out a couple of very pertinent questions. Before I could say a word Ray took over.

"We've already received confirmation that it's the IRA, we have thirty-two minutes before the place goes up. By that time you'll be well away. The stairway outside is covered by our men, we have two unmarked cars waiting by the goods entrance and clearance out of the area. Only three of your guards will accompany us - any more will attract unwanted attention. We don't want you sticking out like a sore thumb. Do you have any Western-style clothes in your luggage?"

Kumal swallowed whatever he had been about to say. "No, none." He was taking Ray very seriously now.

I wasn't surprised. Ray can be quite impressive when it suits him and he was crisp as a carrot, all business. He didn't seem surprised at Kumal's revelation and had been staring from Murphy to Anson to me then back over to Kumal with a growing look of resignation.

"Nothing else for it then," he announced philosophically, and unzipped his jeans.

There was a split second when I panicked; even Kumal's eyebrows went up a bit. Ray has a promising career as a flasher ahead of him if Cowley ever kicks him off the squad. Talk about being a quick worker.

"Well, come on," he urged, giving Kumal an impatient look as he hauled off the second leg of his jeans. "Strip."

It was then, following the direction of Kumal's gaze, that Ray looked down at himself.

"Bugger," he said without heat, fingers busy with his shirt. "Murph, my room's five two one. Get my trainers and socks for me, will you." Then he frowned. "Mr Rhayem, what size shoes do you take?"

Ray isn't thick, he knew what had caught Kumal's attention all right, but he likes to keep people off balance. He still manages it with me, and I know he's doing it.

"In England a nine," Kumal replied automatically.

Ray nodded. "Piece of luck, that. I'd look bloody silly wearing trainers under your gear."

Still fully dressed Kumal was appraising the full glory of a very naked Ray Doyle.

"You intend to masquerade as myself - that we should exchange clothing?" You could tell he didn't care for the idea.

"That's right. We're the closest in size. Now will you get a move on, sir?"

I was starting to realise they were bloody nearly twins.

Kumal gave a wry nod, but he can move it when the occasion demands speed. Even so, I could almost hear Ray counting to ten while I made sure Kumal's guards knew exactly what was going on. Ray always has been short on patience.

Stripped to his socks and briefs, already wearing Ray's shirt, Kumal picked up the jeans and let 'em droop from one finger, giving Doyle a look of reproach. "They are still warm," he said, his nose wrinkling fastidiously.

I felt my guts give a funny little twist.

Anson just choked in the background.

"Only natural, seeing he's just taken them off," I said, before Ray could let rip.

Ameur was busy making Ray look like he belonged in Kumal's outfit. Jassim was slipping Kumal's shoes on for him. I don't think Ray took to their help.

It was uncanny how alike Kumal and Ray were now the changeover was almost complete - height, build, hair, except that Kumal's was darker and shorter. Even the tone of voice. Now I had no choice but to accept how alike they were and remember the worst of both. Not a happy thought that.

Kumal was having trouble getting the jeans done up. I was glad to see he hadn't lost his taste for exotic underwear but - canary yellow?

Ray was humming the birdy song, very quietly.

I ignored him. Anson was busy checking things with the guys guarding the corridors and Murphy was at the door. Time was ticking away and everyone was starting to tense up.

Kumal, looking a good ten years younger, was lacing the second trainer.

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded.

"About time. Ray, where's your holster?"

"Here," said Murphy, before consternation could set in. He tossed it over with a suave grin. He can be an efficient sod when it suits him.

I helped Kumal on with it, not liking this one little bit.

"You might be wearing this but if you fire it for any reason, whatever happens, and I'll put a bullet in you myself," I told him. I think he could tell I wasn't joking but the warning was necessary. He'd always been inclined to be trigger happy; I'd seen enough of him to know he hadn't softened in his old age.

"How are we doing for time?" Doyle asked, looking less than thrilled at the prospect of being an unarmed target.

I knew how he felt.

"Twenty-seven minutes," said Anson, chewing on an unlit cigar. He always does that. I keep waiting for him to bite one in half. "You ready yet?"

"Ready," I confirmed. "Kumal, keep quiet, look alert and stick with me. We meet any trouble, you do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. Forget the old days. Clear?"

If looks could have killed I'd have been lying in a mahogany casket with yellow roses scattered over the top. But one advantage of him being an old mate was the amount of time it saved, we didn't have to pretty up the explanations. Kumal's scowl vanished as he grinned, shrugged and said something very vulgar about my parentage which only I understood, although I think Ameur caught the gist of it. Then we were finally off.

I was bloody terrified all the way to the car.

Had good reason. I've seen enough to know that if a professional killer goes after a target the odds are, he'll get it. Fanatics - christ, I didn't even want to think about them. The thought of Ray -

But I couldn't spare the time to think about that, couldn't afford to let it make any difference. For all I knew the only difference was the fact that I'd lost my marbles. What's one kiss? Especially to an affectionate drunk like Doyle. Booze always makes him randy and he's never needed much encouragement.

He was looking very sober now, and very remote.

Suddenly wondered if I'd imagined that mouth parting for me.

We were split equally between the two cars; Anson was driving ours while Kumal and I flanked Doyle in the back seat. As Anson slid us through the police cordon with some smooth driving Ray gave me a sudden quick glance. Then he smiled, properly.

He doesn't do that often.

Just as well, by the time I was concentrating on the job again we were five miles away.

"Where we off to then?" I thought to ask.

"Bearing in mind that it's three minutes to four, Cowley suggested one of our flats until we can fix up something more comfortable in the morning," said Doyle in a tone of voice I had learnt to distrust a long time ago.

He was fidgeting inside th burnous he wore on top of everything else, trying not to scratch too obviously. I could feel the warmth of him all down my right side.

I concentrated on the tone of voice. "Did he happen to say which flat?"

"Nah, so I suggested yours. It's got better security," he added happily.

Nine blokes in the rabbit hutch they'd given me. We'd be pinned around the walls, staring eyeball to eyeball.

"Thanks."

"Think nothing of it, mate," he replied, his voice very low. He smiled again.

I knew I must be smiling back. I've never been so acutely aware of anyone in the whole of my life. Wasn't sure I cared for it.

"It'll be fine," he added.

"Will it?"

"Course." That smile was intimate enough to leave fingerprints in private places.

And all kinds of warnings started going off inside me. Ray was too cocksure by half. I've seen that look on him before. Give him a challenge, a bird who refuses to be pulled, and he'll go all out to get her. But once he's won - I think two months was the longest I remember seeing one last. The worst of it is he doesn't consciously know he's doing it. But that was why I'd kept quiet for so long.

It was time to stop this before - christ, before it went too far. I'd kill him if he did that to me. Then myself I think.

So it wouldn't come to that. I'd have to make sure of that. Somehow.

After a few minutes I could even talk again. I started to chat to Kumal. Out of all of us in the car he was the calmest of the lot.

 

***

 

To be quite fair about it Rhayem gave us no trouble. He took his disturbed night very well, although you could see Bodie's flat wasn't what he was used to. Have to admit it was on the cramped side with the nine of us in it.

Think I must still have been in a state of shock. Right then I was all for togetherness but only with Bodie. Which was too bad because we didn't have a single moment to ourselves for the next four days what with Murphy and Anson, McCabe and Lucas, those three bodyguards of Rhayem's that insisted on staying and Uncle Tom Cobley and all. Like living in the middle of fucking Piccadilly Circus.

For a number of reasons I was seeing a lot of Rhayem. While they say familiarity breeds contempt I had to start taking him seriously. As politicians go I've known worse. He even listened to the advice we gave him. Mind, he didn't always do what we suggested but you can't have everything. I'd rather guard his back than some of the cretins Cowley's sicked on us in the past.

The alert at the Dorchester turned out to be a hoax; it was the only one. Before we knew it London was in the middle of another wave of bombings, so we kept Rhayem out of the centre altogether. Just when Cowley had approved some gracious living in the shape of this house in Surrey we got news of a whisper that a group had flown in from West Germany - after Rhayem.

None of the names meant a thing. Which only made it worse. It's always easier when you know who you're up against.

That had people hopping around like fleas on heat that did. For our part, we sat tight, armed to the eyeballs, and carried on as though nothing was wrong. We needn't have bothered with the act. Rhayem knew what was going on even better than we did and was only too happy to let Cowley know it.

I got bloody tired of trying to pacify an irate Cowley on the other end of the R/T. Bodie has always done better with Cowley than I ever will; typically he was never around when Cowley called in and the other bastards left him to me.

We were only ten hours at Bodie's place. The penthouse flat they found for us thereafter was a definite improvement, though that's not saying much. But it proved the East End is one of the up and coming areas - coming to what I'm not sure. We were over a light industrial warehouse, which made it easy enough to monitor visitors. Besides, we needed some cover for all the traffic that was coming and going.

That was the main drawback about having to keep Rhayem holed up, we were up to our necks in Whitehall mandarins. It made a change seeing them prised out of their cozy offices. I bet it's a good few years since most of them travelled in anything as crass as a Ford, never mind the transit van. Cheered us all up that did. But someone behind the scenes must have been working their guts out rearranging Rhayem's itinerary. Not only did he see people from eight in the morning until gone midnight but there was no unpleasantness. You know, no two people colliding in the front door who weren't supposed to know each other existed or that Rhayem would be seeing them if they did. Just as well, we were on the cramped side for World War Three.

There was one meeting that was on the delicate side where Rhayem had to go to the mountain, couldn't risk the news getting out even among his own lot. So I did my decoy act again and bloody nearly came back with two belly buttons. We lost them easy enough, the trouble was we couldn't find them again.

I was bloody glad to get back after that one. Those long skirts hamper your movements something rotten. I never could work out how they could look so good on Rhayem and leave me looking like a sack of laundry. From the pained looks he kept giving me I don't think Rhayem could either.

But I suppose it was worth all the effort. He seemed happy enough with the way his talks were goin'; more to the point, so were we. The media never got a whiff of his presence over here which kept some of the heat off.

We had enough as it was.

What with the bombings and all, the security services were up to their eyes. We were on the go eighteen to twenty hours a day as it was. There was just enough free time to snatch a few hours sleep before we started all over again. The flat always felt crowded, too many of us living in a small space. The only privacy you could get was in the bog (and you couldn't guarantee that). I could hardly haul Bodie off in there with me.

Came bloody close to it a couple of times.

Knew I was getting a bit fraught by the fourth day, snapping at everyone but Bodie. The only reason he missed out was that I hardly saw him. He took good care to see to that.

It wasn't the work or the hours we were putting in that were getting me down but the uncertainty between Bodie and me.

There was too much time to think. Sometimes I wasn't sure I hadn't imagined it all.

Christ, listen to me. 'It all.'

One lousy kiss.

Turned my life upside down. Meant so much that it frightened me. Bodie wasn't doing a whole lot to reassure me.

I dunno what the hell went wrong. All of a sudden I turned round to him in the car and he wasn't there. He looked straight through me and started chatting to Rhayem. Since then, nothing. Not one word that wasn't strictly necessary and all of them on business. And if he ever looked at me - properly - it must have been when I was asleep.

He wasn't subtle about avoiding being with me either. Lucas and McCabe noticed first. When Murphy made some flippant comment about it I knew it wasn't just a case of me being paranoid.

I think it's fair to say I've known happier working atmospheres.

I woke up on the last morning of Rhayem's stay with the usual crick in my neck to find Anson snoring down my left ear.

It was getting bloody monotonous.

Considering Anson always started off sleeping a good six feet away from me I could never fathom out how he always managed to land up next to me. McCabe was making even more noise on the sofa - Lucas and Murphy were on night watch. I opened my other eye and found Ameur and his brother in their usual huddle. They never made a sound, but it's disconcerting to wake up and find anything that big only a few inches away.

I was glad I'd got around to apologising to Ameur early on about our little set-to. He was a good bloke to have on your side. He and his brother fitted in with our style of working like clockwork. Considering he didn't speak any English and my Arabic's limited to those two phrases Bodie taught me it was amazing the chats we managed to have.

I tried to get back to sleep but Anson's snoring got louder and I needed to pee. Gave up then and groped my way out of the sleeping bag to face the world. I even resisted the temptation to kick Anson awake - the room stank of stale cigar smoke and too many blokes who'd been wearing the same clothes for too long.

I had a leak and decided to have a shower and shave while the going was good. While we had two bogs there was only the one bathroom and a total of nine blokes competing for the hot water. While it might do me good I was in no mood for a cold shower. I kept thinking wistfully of that room at the Dorchester - not mine, Bodie's.

Before I could start shaving Bodie marched in. You could tell he hadn't expected to find me here.

"The other bog's in use," he growled. He looked worse than I felt, which is saying something.

"Be my guest." It was so bloody good to see him. "How's Lawrence of Arabia?" I asked for want of something to say. The beam that went with it bounced right off him.

"Still asleep," he said curtly, getting on with what he'd come in for. He'd have paid more attention to a dubious stain on the wall than he did to me.

Bodie had been back on duty in Kumal's room last night. Having a bloke in his bedroom had, funnily enough, been the one thing Rhayem had cut up rough about. By mutual consent - what the hell could I say against it? - Bodie was nominated. I put my shaver away without bothering to use it.

"Lucky Kumal. The pair of you have a good night, did you?"

I got all Bodie's attention then. Flushing the bog he gave me a look of weary contempt and made to leave without saying anything.

I grabbed his arm. "Oy, we're a bit over-sensitive this morning, aren't we? I only meant - "

He shrugged himself free, looking everywhere but at me. "I know exactly what you meant. I shouldn't think anyone's ever been in much doubt about that, you've always been a poison-tongued bastard. All the same to you isn't it."

He'd gone before I could open my mouth.

Considering the treatment I'd taken from him over the last four days that was really rich. I hared after him and damn near knocked McCabe arse over tip in the doorway. He's no pretty sight first thing in the morning either.

"Doesn't anybody fucking well knock anymore!" I snapped, nose to nose with him as he got to his feet.

"Bodie went that way," he offered, jerking a lazy thumb. "What's up, had a lover's tiff, have you?" While he was yawning, his eyes were shrewder than I cared for.

I was in the mood to take him on and bugger the rules. Found myself staring at Rhayem instead. Now while I admit I was too bloody furious to have heard King Kong come up on me, McCabe didn't have that excuse.

"Good morning, Mr Doyle. When you have - er - finished with Mr McCabe may I have a word with you - in private?"

With a muttered, "Sorry, mate," McCabe disappeared into the bog, locking the door behind him like someone's maiden aunt.

Balked, I gave Rhayem an acid look. "About what?" It was no good. I'd tried, I really had but I couldn't stand the malicious bastard.

"Bodie," he said with quiet simplicity and disappeared back into his bedroom in a swirl of silk dressing gown.

I dunno who claims rank has no privileges. At least he had a room almost to himself. The rest of us thought ourselves lucky if we won the toss for the sofa or the chairs we shoved together.

I'd spent the last two nights on the floor. I won't claim they were the happiest of my life. Not that I would have slept much anyway. I couldn't settle. Too busy wondering what the fuck was going on between Bodie and me. To see him now you'd think he was ashamed of me or something.

Some thoughts you can do without.

It was a moment before I thought to follow Rhayem. I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate, this was no time for mooning around. I even remembered to shut the door behind me.

"Right, so you want to have a word about Bodie. What - exactly - about Bodie is bothering you?" I wanted there to be no mistake about this.

Rhayem carried on dressing. That tailor Cowley had dug up had done us proud. Rhayem was lookin' like one of those brooding male models.

He stared back at me in the mirror. It gave me quite a jolt. I recognised that look. I should do, I'd used it often enough myself.

"The boot seems to be on the other foot, Mr Doyle. I accept Bodie as he is. It is you who seems to be experiencing difficulty in doing the same thing. How well do you know him?"

I leant back against the door and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. My job was to keep the bastard alive, no more, no less. Job satisfaction isn't what it used to be.

"Well enough."

"Indeed?" Eleven years since he'd clapped eyes on Bodie and Rhayem was going to lecture me.

Neat as a new pin from his handmade shoes to his maroon silk tie, he shrugged on his jacket, gave me another odd look and said something to himself I couldn't understand.

"Why do you suppose I should waste my valuable time asking a perfect stranger such a personal question?" he asked.

There were several obvious answers. Cowley would probably fire me if I made any of them.

"I have no idea, Mr Rhayem." If I didn't keep it formal I'd take him in a hold he wouldn't be able to ignore. "As this is your last morning with us you'll appreciate we're all rather busy. If you'll excuse me." There was no point in losing my temper with him but I wanted to get out while I still remembered that.

"Wait!"

Christ, you could tell he was used to instant obedience. Worst of it was, I stopped, turned, waited.

"Mr Doyle, I think you may be under some misapprehension. My relationship with Bodie is - "

There was no way I wanted to hear any of this. No way he had any right to be telling me. Bodie wasn't some bloody trophy to be awarded to the winner.

"Not my business. I may well be under a misapprehension but it's for Bodie to clear them up, if he thinks they're important enough. The car will be here for us at ten thirty. There are still arrangements regarding yourself to be finalised."

Guess who was going to be playing decoy all over the sodding countryside again? Meanwhile, our hero was going home on a scheduled flight all on his tod - ostensibly. If things went according to plan he'd even get there unperforated.

Rhayem grabbed hold of me before I got the door open.

I didn't clock him one.

Christ, I thought I knew myself but - I was choking up with jealousy. I couldn't miss the truth of what I'd seen in the mirror. No wonder he'd looked familiar, or that I made such a good decoy. There wasn't just a passing resemblance between us; racial differences apart he and I were so alike it was indecent. It made me wonder which of us Bodie really wanted.

It occurred to me that he might not know himself. Maybe he didn't know the difference.

Maybe there wasn't one.

I took a nice deep breath, although I won't pretend it helped a lot. "OK, so you've proved I don't 'ave a bionic arm." It was going numb as it happened.

He let me go then, pushed a hand back through his hair, swore then gave me this crooked grin. His teeth are all perfect. Of course.

"I can't imagine how Bodie has withstood five years of working with you," he said frankly.

"You and me both." Bugger, I hadn't meant to say that, give him any more advantage than he'd already got.

"No, I don't suppose you do. The onlooker sees so much more. But I am not the one who should explain, nor I think, would you believe me if I were to attempt it. The resemblance between us is most marked, isn't it? Perhaps that accounts for the antagonism, although it is odd that one should so dislike a twin."

This time I was going, preferably through him.

There was a brief knock on the door which opened at the same time.

"Thought I heard voices," said Bodie, with all the cheeriness of a pallbearer. "Doyle, Cowley wants a word with you on the R/T. Mr Rhayem will be quite safe with me."

There are times you wouldn't need telling that he'd been in the army. Bastard, using that tone on me.

Now wasn't the time or place to have it out with him.

As I went out I heard Rhayem say, "Bodie, don't you think this foolish - " Then Bodie slammed the door shut behind me.

My chat with Cowley wasn't what you could call much of a success. And I can't in all fairness blame it on the Old Man either.

 

"How much longer?" asked Murphy, chewing with dedication.

"About five minutes," said Bodie tersely, his eyes flickering between the driving and side mirrors as he kept us at a constant fifty five miles per hour. "Then Rhayem will be winging his way home."

"All that sunshine," said Murphy with a lazy stretch. He did a little casual checking of his own. "Did you know there are three cars now? The latest is the brown Rover in the middle lane."

"I had noticed," Bodie told him politely. He said something soft into the R/T, ending with a "You too, Lucas," before sharing the news with the rest of us. "According to Dick Daring behind us there's a minimum of four blokes in each of the cars."

"Safety in numbers," offered Anson through the cigar clamped between his teeth. He's full of original little gems like that.

Murphy ignored that, obviously in a holiday mood. "Wonder what Benny and Lewis bribed the Old Man with to get their little jaunt off to foreign parts. Bloody wasted on them. And I bet Lewis, the bastard, never so much as sends a postcard."

No bet that, Lewis is what you could call careful.

"Can't say I fancy the trip much, they'll only be there long enough to get their duty frees. Neither of them smoke either."

Trouble with Anson is his one track mind - well, two track. Nicotine and women. In that order.

He leant forward, gave Bodie a poke. "Here, is it true about Rhayem having five mothers-in-law, each worse than the last?"

"Yeah." Bodie was in a chatty mood all right.

Mothers-in-law. Five of them?

"Rhayem's married?" I said, a bit weakly as it sank in.

"Strewth, you're bright this morning, 4.5." If Anson carried on like that I was going to say something he'd be sorry for. "You don't get a mother-in-law without a wife and he's got five mothers-in-law. Does that give you a clue how many wives he's got? No wonder he wasn't interested in getting any freebies while he was over here."

"Four," I offered, but my heart wasn't in it.

'Some misapprehension..' I'm slow, but I get there in the end.

I promised myself that when this was all over I was going to take Bodie apart, very slowly, for what he'd put me through. Got sidetracked when I fell for the back of his neck all over again.

Bloody ridiculous.

But he's got a nice neck.

The chat went on around us, mainly envying Rhayem's stamina I think. I wasn't really listening. But for all the jokes, you could have cut the tension in the car with a knife.

We'd picked up our first tail fifteen miles ago. What we hadn't anticipated was the other two cars that would join the first. We had this little diversion planned for our tail once we got off the motorway, on the principle that no one would try anything on there - too public, too easy to be trapped afterwards. The odds were already two to one against us.

But they'd have to move in once we left the motorway. They weren't likely to wait until we got to the RAF base - no one's that stupid and if they could read a road map they must have worked out where we were heading for. The only thing agitating us was in case they decided not to fall in with our - Cowley's - master plan.

Even old Ameur was looking a bit fraught, although he was probably just worrying about Rhayem. He hadn't taken kindly to the news that his boss was making his way to Heathrow by tube. I can't say Rhayem had looked very thrilled at the prospect of changing at Hammersmith, let alone mingling with the proletariat. Probably afraid he would catch something.

I'm not saying he was wrong.

I just hoped he wouldn't get mugged. Cowley wouldn't be at all amused.

I was sweating cobs under the bulletproof vest they'd forced me into. I hate the bloody things.

I had a fidget but I couldn't get comfortable.

"Will you settle down," Anson complained. "You should have thought of that before we left the flat."

"Hah bloody hah."

I still stick by what I'd said an hour and a half ago while they were shoving me into it.

"Be great protection against a bullet in the back of the head, this will," I'd complained as Murphy 'helped' me into it.

Bodie whipped across the room like some avenging angel.

I thought he was going to belt me one for a moment. Murphy must have thought the same thing because he swallowed his gum.

Bodie's face had been about three inches from mine as he jerked the jacket to a close. "Put it on, leave it on, and shut up Doyle. Let's either get on with it or let one of us take your place!"

That's all he actually said but I swear to christ his eyes burnt a hole in me - right through that fucking vest - before he stormed out the flat.

"Bodie's a bit tetchy," Anson had remarked to no one in particular, once he was certain Bodie had disappeared down to the car.

I don't think I was supposed to hear Murphy's reply.

"So would you be if it was your partner playing target for the third time in as many days."

It takes more than that to shut Anson up.

"I haven't noticed Doyle being more obnoxious than usual."

Murphy caught my eye as I came out of the bog. "It isn't possible. C'mon, Omar. Are you wearing any knickers today?"

"Why, d'you wanna see them?" I batted my eyelashes at him as we went down to join Bodie in the car.

We'd tried to keep the atmosphere light from then on, it doesn't do any good to start worrying about what could happen or you'd never get out of bed, but I can't say Bodie helped over much. Every time he looked at me it was as if he was measuring me up for my coffin.

"Where's the bloody backup got to?" Anson asked about five miles later, spreading himself across the seat

What with him one side and Ameur on the other I was getting thinner by the minute.

"They've probably run out of petrol," I offered morosely, trying not to fidget. "Murph, have you got any chewing gum left?"

Ameur intercepted the packet Murphy tossed back, looked at me sadly and shook his head.

So the Minister of Defence didn't chew gum.

"Oh, come on," I said. "Can take anything too far, you know. Bodie, tell him, will you?"

"Why?"

That was it.

"Because I'm shit scared and when I'm shit scared me mouth goes dry and I lose me concentration. I dunno about you but I wanna know about it when I get my head blown off! Christ, what the hell's wrong with you?"

Everyone else in the car was busy pretending they weren't there.

I can't say I blame them. It wasn't a very edifying scene, the pair of us bitching at each other like that. Time to break it up.

"I suppose I can always suck me thumb instead," I added. But Bodie was still a million miles away. "Now someone's going to tell me Rhayem doesn't smoke either."

Me in my cozy little jacket while Bodie was wearing one that couldn't even keep out the rain never mind anything else.

"I don't care if he smokes or not," said Anson tranquilly, "because I'm not wasting one of my cigars on the likes of you. You can't smoke until you've started shaving, you know."

"We're just lucky his voice has dropped," added Murphy, ever helpful.

"Amongst other things. Give him some bloody gum, if only to shut him up," Bodie announced in a tone of long-suffering. "But watch yourself when he decides to get rid of it." Then he grinned at me in the driving mirror and the world slid back into focus, clear and sharp as can be.

"Cheers, Murph," I said, helping myself. "Oh, spearmint. I prefer peppermint myself."

"Good, then you can give it to me instead," Bodie said, taking the slip road off the motorway. By the time Lucas and McCabe and our tails had followed us there was quite a little cavalcade.

"I'll give you something else if you're not careful. Here you go, I've even unwrapped it for you." I had my chin on the back of his seat as I leant forward.

"I hope your fingers are clean," he said.

For a moment I felt his warmth when he reached back to take the gum.

"They've only been in the usual places." I could hear McCabe on the R/T, giving us the signal before he peeled off down the side road. All three cars decided to stay with us.

"Oh, you haven't softened it up for me."

"Give us it back then. He likes me do everything for him," I told the others.

Now it had come to it we'd all relaxed. Bodie was taking the car round the narrow country lanes smooth as silk.

"Everything?" said Murphy reaching inside his jacket. He always does that, I dunno where he expects his holster to have gone. There again, he doesn't lose his temper like I do.

"Everything," Bodie confirmed, his voice heavy with meaning. "Oh oh, hold on tight."

We were doing eighty six when they opened up behind us.

All it did was frighten a few sheep.

I relaxed when I realised how useless they were. Bodie put his foot down.

That lane Cowley had picked out was right where it was supposed to be.

It went like clockwork after that. For a while. Right up to us abandoning the car when they finally got their eye in. Ameur and Murphy were well away behind the convenient piles of junk in the hedgerow, Anson and Bodie at the back and front wings. Now came the moment when I had to launch myself into the drainage ditch and get artistically shot in the back.

I hadn't been looking forward to that part since Cowley had first suggested it as a possible diversion.

It was all right for him, what if they missed the bloody vest I was wearing?

They were so fucking useless that was quite probable. Bullets were going everywhere.

After they lost four men in as many seconds they got wary and did what they should have done in the first place and took cover. We were lucky they hadn't got their hands on any gas or grenades.

Then it was too late to worry about anything when they opened up again and bloody nearly demolished the back of the car and Anson with it. Ameur and Murph were busy in the background, keeping half a dozen of 'em pinned down but there were too many of them. The time had come to take the heat off until reinforcements arrived.

The only trouble was, we'd forgotten that Bodie hadn't been let in on what I was supposed to be doing. The suicidal bastard damn nearly got his guts ripped away trying to stop me.

I took a flying leap at him at the same time this giant hand slammed into my back.

Somebody must love us, the momentum took us into the ditch after all.

I couldn't move, could hardly bloody breathe with all the air knocked out of me. The bastards had got their eye in. I was going to have some great bruises tomorrow, most of them from the grip Bodie had on me.

His eyes were shut, his face the colour of putty.

A couple of shots zipped over us.

Christ, had he been - ?

Murphy's bellow reminded me what this had all been in aid of. "Rhayem! Is Rhayem OK?"

Bodie's eyes opened then but he stared through me, up at the hand that had been clutching me. Those blood bags worked a treat, we were smothered in gore.

He didn't pick up his cue, just lay there, eyes very black, staring at his hand.

"Rhayem's dead!" I yelled back.

In the event, I shouldn't think my wheeze carried beyond the rim of the ditch. But it attracted Bodie's attention.

I heard renewed firing, a long burst, not ours, a short one and a voice cried out. Not one of ours either. Another spasmodic burst then it was quiet. There were some sheep busy panicking somewhere nearby. I can't say I blame them. The ditch stank of the damp, and decaying leaves.

Funny the things you notice.

My breathing eased up a bit.

"Ray? You're dead." His voice was very calm, and very distant.

I suddenly realised the poor bugger must have believed that ham act of mine.

"No, I'm wearing a vest, remember? This is stage blood. Come on, sunshine. It's time we went and mustered the troops."

I untangled myself and let out a yelp as pain streaked across my bum. Of all the bloody stupid places to get hit. Bodie didn't move.

I took his face between my hands. He was cold and clammy with shock. I could hear McCabe's voice, Anson's laugh and knew it was all over.

"Bodie. Come on, mate. Bodie." I shook him gently.

Nothing. Except that he began to shiver.

Mild shock. Fight fire with fire.

So I kissed him, very slowly.

Worked a treat that did. Too well in fact because one of us got carried away.

He tasted of spearmint and Bodie.

I froze when I heard this little cough from above us.

"In case you're interested," announced Murphy sardonically, "there's five dead, four injured and six in cuffs - none of them us. Oh, and if you're peckish there are two dead sheep in the next field. Police, ambulance and Cowley all arrived together. And if that's your blood, you're dead, Ray."

I thought Bodie wasn't going to stop kissing me for a moment. I mumbled something, tried to lift me head.

Bodie opened his eyes very wide then. "Hallo, Murph. Ray's fine."

Then, would you credit it, he fainted. _Bodie_. Out like a bloody light.

"It's probably lack of oxygen. That's quite a technique you've got," said Murphy. He sounded admiring more than anything else. "Bodie's not hit?"

I was busy checking. His pulse was strong enough so I straightened up.

"Nah, he's fine." His breath was warm and damp against my other hand. I moved a twig that was scratching his neck.

"You look like a butcher, is any of that blood yours?" Murphy gave me a hand out of the ditch, which was deeper than it looked. "Are you all right yourself, Ray?" From the expression on his face he was about to select the wood for my coffin.

I paused to look back down to where Bodie lay sprawled on the rotting leaves. He's always been pale so his colour now was nothing to worry about, not that it stopped me. But there was no point thinking about what could have happened so I turned back to look at Murph.

"I'm bruised, that's all." I suppose I should have felt awkward with him but nothing seemed to have changed. "You didn't waste much time in finishing this lot off," I said, jerking a thumb in the direction of all the activity down the road. "What happened?"

He told me and I think I even listened to some of what he was saying.

"So, has this been going on long?" he added, standing next to me as we watched the ambulance take off. We shoot holes in them, then we patch them up again. Sometimes it doesn't make much sense.

"What -?" Feeling more like my old self by this time I gave him the once over but I could see there wasn't going to be any future in lofty disdain. Murph and I have known each other a long time. "It hasn't even started, thanks to you poking the doorknob in Bodie's backside the other night."

I watched that sink in with a certain malicious enjoyment. There, I've admitted it.

"You mean I - ? You were - ? Up against the door?" I've never seen Murph blush before, didn't think he knew how.

"Are you trying to tell me you didn't notice that something was up?" I tried to sound scathing but I know I made a lousy job of it, I was grinning too much.

Murph rubbed a couple of sore spots and grinned back. "Oh, I noticed that all right. It just didn't occur to me that it was the _first_ time. What the hell's taken you two so long?" he demanded abruptly.

I think even my toenails went pink. But it's no good glaring at Murph. Like I said, he knows me too well.

"Ray's shy and retiring nature," said this aggrieved voice from behind us.

It took the pair of us to haul Bodie out the ditch. He kept a hold of my hand and was trying to brush himself down with the other. As we'd had a lot of rain recently it didn't help much.

"Just so long as you've got it together now. We've had enough of the pair of you snapping everyone's head off," said Murphy serenely. He's known Bodie almost as long as me.

"Up yours," I said sourly.

My back was aching, my bum hurt and I'd had enough of discussing my private life, even with Murph.

Bodie tightened his grip on my hand and shook his head at me. In case Murph had missed it he lifted up our joined hands, his expression daring Murphy to say anything.

Unperturbed, Murphy carried on chewing. I must have swallowed my gum when things hotted up.

"Not my style, 4.5. But, for what it's worth, I reckon you two deserve each other. Incidentally, who's going to break the news to the Old Man?"

There was what you could call a pregnant silence.

"There's nothing' to tell him," I said weakly.

"Yet," added Bodie.

Murphy grinned again. "I shouldn't worry about it, he'll guess before you get round to mentioning it." He gave a resigned sigh. "I'm glad I work solo."

Bodie let him move three paces away before he thought to ask why.

The police van and two cars taking off drowned out whatever Murphy said. Then McCabe shouted for us to get a move on unless we were thinking of walking back to HQ; Lucas, in the driving seat, leant across him to add his mite. And Murphy didn't need to explain a thing.

I felt my mouth drop open.

"Christ, is the whole of CI5 bent?" That's my Bodie, they probably heard him two fields away. Luckily we were downwind.

"What was that, 3.7?"

Bloody Cowley, it's amazing how he resurfaces when you least want him. He was looking decidedly peeved about the state of the car we'd been using. I'm not surprised. There wasn't much of it left.

I limped on ahead, wincing artistically. "A fat lot of sympathy I might expect from this lot," I complained, trying to look wan. "Here's me, injured for Queen and Country and all Bodie can say is that I must've bent the bullet."

All the blood on me gave Cowley pause for a moment. The grin plastered across Murphy's face probably gave the game away.

"Where were you hit?" Cowley asked with cold disbelief.

Bodie's slap across my bum echoed down the road and made me leap about three feet in the air.

"Nowhere it'll do any damage," he said unsympathetically. Doesn't know his own strength, that's Bodie's trouble. He seemed to have forgotten the arm he'd slung around my shoulders.

I gave him a venomous look, rubbed myself and looked at him again, feeling something distinctly odd happen inside. He looked terrible; shadows under his eyes, much too pale and his cheek all bloody where he'd scratched it. His hair was sticking up like a loo brush and had a few dead leaves tangled in it.

I knew I'd got it bad when I picked out two of them under the Cow's nose.

Cowley didn't say anything for a moment, just gave us one of those uncomfortable stares of his.

"Aye, well don't go bleeding on the upholstery, Doyle. Your partner has already succeeded in wrecking one car." Bodie's indignant protest died stillborn. "And get that - er - injury tended to. McCabe, you can take the pair of them in your car. I don't want my upholstery ruined. I'll expect to see all of you tomorrow, two thirty. Murphy, you can drive the rest of us back. Anson, is Mr - er - Ameur ready to - ?"

I remembered to give Ameur a wave. I could hear Cowley's voice receding into the distance, followed by the sound of cars leaving. I stayed where I was, listening to the sheep and shivering in the wind as I looked at Bodie.

"Are you two trying to hatch anything out there or d'you want a lift back to town?"

Trust Lucas to ruin a tender moment.

I wondered how long he and - But that wasn't anyone's business but theirs.

Mindful of Cowley's instructions I didn't bleed on the upholstery, although the lining of Bodie's jacket has never been the same since. Neither of us felt much like talking. Reaction takes everyone different. Lucas and McCabe were chatting nineteen to the dozen. Then, just before we hit the motorway, they stopped. I could hear that McCabe was asleep. It wasn't until I heard this snuffling noise against my shoulder that I realised Bodie had done the same thing.

Watching him sleep - Ah, I dunno. Maybe it's just those eyelashes of his, the way his mouth relaxes, tiny lines smoothed away. I stopped feeling quite so sentimental when I remembered that he snores louder than Anson when he gets going. Hadn't got the energy to worry about anything else for at least ten minutes.

I was bloody stiff by the time Lucas pulled up outside my flat. Getting out of the car was murder, the flak jacket feeling more like a strait jacket. Dunno how I came to forget to take it off, except that it would've woken Bodie up. Sometimes he's less trouble asleep.

Lucas seemed to take it for granted that Bodie would be staying at my place. Bodie didn't argue, so neither did I.

McCabe gave me a disgusted look from out of the window. "Do you have any idea how horrible you look?"

I still maintain it wasn't my fault this patrol car should pull up just when I was telling him. To be fair, it wasn't just my bloodstains that attracted their attention. The car was looking a bit rough, a few unmistakable holes where the designer hadn't intended any.

While I was still fumbling to find a pocket Bodie woke up enough to flash his ID at them. After some of his glib chat you could see their ideas about CI5 changing, and not for the better. But he got rid of them.

Then Lucas and McCabe left and there was just Bodie and me and the door to my flat.

Cowley picks us for our fast reflexes.

It took me over a minute to get the key in the lock.

 

***

 

"Are you coming in?"

One look at that wide-eyed solemnity told me he wasn't joking. He was too tired. I reached over his shoulder, unlocked the bloody door and pushed us both inside. I even remembered to take the key out and set all the locks again.

"May as well," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Probably came out sounding like Minnie Mouse.

It had been a rough four days. Mostly my fault for getting myself so screwed up worrying about Ray, as if I never have before, or will again. I was so knackered even my eyelids hurt.

I propped them open long enough to take a look at Ray.

He was leaning against the door. The poor bugger looked shagged out. For all his jokes about that bullet crease I could tell it was giving him trouble.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to after what Murph assumed I'll make us some coffee or something," he mumbled, pushing himself onto his feet. He didn't get much further than that. Just stood in the middle of the hall, his head drooping, arms hanging at his sides, looking as if he didn't know what the hell to do next. It dawned on me that after the way I'd been treating him the last few days he had every right to be confused.

"Ray." It was a moment before he looked up, his expression a careful neutral. "I'm sorry. I - " He never gave me the chance to finish.

"Don't bother apologising," he said carefully, "There's only one thing I need to know. Which of us is it that you want - me or Rhayem?"

" _What_?"

"Come on, _Bodie_. I'm tired. Too bloody tired for games. So just tell me. Which?"

"You, of course. Christ, that stupid stunt wasn't meant to go on that long." I reached out to him. He just gave me a cold look, so I let my hand drop again.

"Not that it really matters," he explained in that same careful tone, "if I'll do. Christ, I'm tired." He turned away.

" _Do_?" But I couldn't stop myself yawning, then I couldn't seem to stop.

He turned back and gave a reluctant grin. "So are you."

"Can I have a bed for the rest of the afternoon?"

I thought for a moment that he hadn't heard me, caught in that focussed attention as his eyes travelled over me, seeming to strip off all extraneous material so that he could see clear to the heart of me. He gave me this slow spreading smile and nodded.

"Rest of your life, sunshine - or for as long as you want it." Then he staggered off in the direction of his bedroom.

Our lives decided that simply.

"What did you say?" I didn't catch up with him until the bedroom door.

"You heard me."He hadn't gone that soft on me, which was a relief. I like Ray just the way he is. He was tugging ineffectually at all the material scragged round him, as pathetic as a small kid who's been kept up past his bedtime. So I gave him a hand and eased him out of the vest. Heard myself swallow.

"Oy." A gentle finger tapped my cheek. "I'm the one who's supposed to go green," he reminded gently. "Bruising coming out all right is it?"

I stood watching the pair of us in the mirror, me holding him. Even with all the marks on him you could see the neat semi-circle, four bullets.

"Lucky you were wearing that vest," I said stupidly. My grip on him tightened. I needed to feel the warm solidity of him against me, nose in his hair, smelling that ditch and his sweat. And I wouldn't have changed a fucking thing.

His hands moved over my back and flanks, soothing more than anything.

"I forgot you were in with Rhayem when Cowley suggested that little diversion. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you a shock like that." He was so tired he was slurring his words.

"Shock? Yeah, that's one way of putting it. You try a stunt like that again and I'll give you more than bloody bruises."

"Bit possessive, aren't you?"

He was trying to make a joke of it but it was still too close. My sense of humour was back in that ditch.

I caught hold of him. "Yes. Better for you to know that now."

He just carried on looking at me, more amused than anything. Standing there between my hands, unmoving. I remembered to relax my grip and stroked the marks I'd left on him. He wrinkled his nose, shook his head and smiled.

"Nah, it's all right. It works both ways, Bodie. Yeah. Disconcerted you that did, didn't it, sunshine." His warning blurred as he yawned. "Suppose it's something we'll have to work out," he added. I can't say he sounded unduly worried at the thought.

"You mean you - ?"

"Yeah." His eyes looked greener than usual and they were smiling at me with so much love that I forgot what I'd been going to say. Found the energy to slide my arms back round him and kissed the hollow of his throat, tasting salt and sweat and Ray Doyle.

It was only when I felt him flinch that I realised I must have changed my grip. I slid his briefs down and turned him around. Apart from giving me an old fashioned look he let me get on with it.

He was right, it was a simple enough bullet crease following the line of muscle round his left buttock.

"This needs - "

"In the morning," he said, his voice blurred with sleep. "When I can enjoy what you're doing." He was already fumbling with my shirt buttons.

It was quicker to get undressed without his help.

"You want anything - lunch?" he thought to mumble. At six o'clock?

"Yes to both. Sleep first."

I remember clambering in next to him, and the naked shock of him wrapping himself all around me, belly to belly. Before I could get my breath back there was this long gusting sigh down my left ear and he was asleep, hair flopped half over my face.

I wanted to lie there and enjoy the feel of him asleep in my arms.

 

The sun in my face woke me up twelve hours later. I could hear the early morning traffic and birds screeching their heads off. It wasn't hard to remember where I was with his hair tickling my shoulder blade and there was this encouraging pulse snug against my arse.

"Mmm. Morning."

"I didn't mean to wake you." He had the sense not to move.

I reached back to stroke him from the smooth hollow of the flank to the soft, springy down on his thigh. "I was awake already." I curved my leg up higher and wriggled back with another approving murmur. "You always wake up this eager?" I wasn't convinced that I was awake.

"Nah." Could hear he was smiling, his breath warm and damp, tongue tip tasting me. "Some mornings I wake up _really_ randy." Felt the brush of his tongue, scrape of teeth, a gentle pressure.

"Oh, I'll look forward to that."

He damn nearly took a chunk out of my shoulder.

"What the - ! Fuckin' hell, Doyle. What are you, some kind of pain freak!" Next thing I knew I was flat on my back, pinned down by his hands and knees.

"That," he said, his voice very soft, "was for the four days you put me through. Don't ever do that to me again, Bodie. Not ever."

I tried to get some leverage. Could feel my shoulder throbbing and - The look on his face stopped me.

"It mattered that much to you?"

I could see the question hit him. Hurt him. I could see a trace of blood on his mouth. My blood.

Honours even then.

I didn't understand anything anymore.

He released me as abruptly as he'd grabbed me, sitting up and staring at his hands as if he didn't know what to do next.

The sun was still streaming in through the window but everything else had changed. I found myself remembering his face yesterday, smiling at me. He wasn't smiling now, he wasn't even looking at me.

"I thought you understood yesterday, or didn't you hear me? How many times must I say it, Bodie? How many ways before you're satisfied? And will you believe it anymore than you do now, or will you just close me out again? I couldn't take that. Not again."

No drama, no nothing. Just his voice, shaking a little.

I knelt up opposite him.

"Are you going to bite me again to prove it?"

"Don't make jokes, Bodie. Christ. Don't - " Then I saw his face.

So I held him, told him over and over again, finding it easier each time. It never dawned on me that he couldn't have known by now. Bloody hell, even Cowley knew before Ray did. I told him that, too.

I'm not sure it wasn't that which convinced him.

Eventually he pulled away a little. His fingers stroked down my back, stopping when I flinched. He looked at his fingers and frowned.

"You're still bleeding."

"It'll stop."

"I was - " He leant around me, hair brushing against me and licked the blood away, very slowly, making me shiver. Then he kissed me. " - bloody angry."

"I realise that. I love you, Ray."

Ironic, isn't it? All the waiting, hoping, and here Ray was, offering it all: and I couldn't reach out, terrified I'd find it wasn't real.

"I told you that too, sunshine," he said - I never have been good at hiding things from him. "Any way you want it, including up against the door."

He was stroking me gently again, his hands not quite steady. As if he couldn't believe it either.

I slid him down beside me. "I want it every way there is and then we'll start making it up. But there's no rush. We've got all the time in the world."

"Have we?" Ageless eyes held mine, sharing the fear we preferred to deny.

"I dunno," I told him, forcing out the truth instead of the comfortable lie. "We'll just have to make the most of what we get." I slid onto my side and wriggled into the curve of his belly, the hot stirring bulk of him snug against me again. "There's always tomorrow."

There was this little snort in my ear. "It doesn't take me that long." And he bit me again, very gently, sucking, nibbling on me.

"How about you then? How long's it take you?" His hand brushed down over my chest and belly, fingers stroking, lazily rubbing. "Got beautiful skin." He found me with no trouble at all, took me in his palm, fingers curving.

"'s nice. Oh, no, not long at all. You realise I don't even know what you look like?" He was fumbling, trying to kick away the bedding.

I rubbed back against him, feeling him grow while he gave me encouraging little squeezes. No hesitation or uncertainty, those long fingers destroying me with each tiny movement.

It was a moment before I could get my breath back. "Don't be daft. Of course you do. How many times have we - ?"

"This is different. I wasn't paying proper attention then," he whispered with scorn, his mouth travelling across the nape of my neck and down my shoulder, nuzzling me. "I knew you'd taste good, you always smell so good. I started to wonder how you'd taste. Dreamt about it once." His thumb grazed over me and I arched back. It nearly finished me.

"Ray," I complained.

"S'ssh." One hand gentled me, his other leaving me. "Mmm, was right. You taste beautiful. Different from how I thought. Wanna try?" He offered up his hand, warm and damp from his mouth and - I buried my face in it. I was shivering and suddenly I couldn't speak, or move or think beyond that velvety voice in my ear and the gentle rocking of him against me.

"Ah, Bodie. What? I didn't mean to embarrass you. You're not, are you. Not with me? I just want to make up for all we've missed. I'm taking it too fast - " He was already moving away.

I rolled over fast, locking us tight together, one leg curving over both of his for good measure. I thrust against him.

"Does this feel like embarrassment? You take whatever you want, sunshine. It was just that - I was expecting it to - This, us, it matters so much that it knocked me for six. But I want it. Want it all. Forever. You daft bugger."

His eyes, huge and heavy with need met mine in mute query.

"Yeah, that, too," I promised him. "Whenever you want it. Me."

I kissed him then, or maybe he kissed me. I dunno. It's all the same.

The feel of him, rock hard, trapped between us; slick silken shock as we slid together, brushing. The soft stroke of his voice in counterpoint.

"'s beautiful. Oh that's - Yeah. Touch me, there and there. Yeah. Your skin - Yeah. Want more of that. Later. Come on, lover. Come on a slow sweet ride."

And he took me there, talking, murmuring, stroking, licking and rocking until it was all too much, even for him. Then we held onto each other.

It was the sweetest ever, that first clumsy time, wrapped around each other, tangled in bedclothes and sweat. The sweetest ever.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Written August 1983
> 
> Printed in HG Collected 1


End file.
